


The Letter

by Eravalefantasy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9628712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eravalefantasy/pseuds/Eravalefantasy
Summary: Written for a Valentine's day exchange in Cullenite's Facebook group, this has been altered with a different name and details to make it generic.





	

As the dream faded, Cullen woke to Melaena’s steady breathing and serene face-his dream a reminder to slip away before she woke to sneak his letters into her pack. The hint of a smile on his face, he attempted to withdraw from the bed without waking her. She stirred, freezing him in place until the rise and fall of her chest in even strokes revealed Melaena slept once more.

Bathed in the muted light of dawn, Cullen dressed and crept down the ladder out into the crisp morning, letters clasped in his hand. He chuckled thinking of his little plot. Melaena’s complaints about Varric and Dorian’s consistent effort to extort information about her private life intensified whenever they were at camp prompting Cullen to devise the perfect foil for the intrusive two.

A deep inhale of the morning air and long sigh of contentment that followed carried him through the courtyard to the stables. He spoke a greeting to her mount, a Red Hart, its rich ruddy coat her favorite. Melaena’s pack hung in the stall, allowing Cullen to slip his letters inside without witnesses.

Unwilling to ignore the creature and leave, Cullen grabbed the soft brush Melaena often used. Hushed words offered encouragement and support, urging the hart to protect his rider. Gentle nods and light snorts as Cullen spoke conveyed acceptance. The quiet bond between the two interrupted by Master Dennett.

“He likes your tone Commander, give him an apple and he’ll carry the lady to the Fade and back-or promise to in his own way.” The older man laughed as his morning routine took over. “Tell you what, you get bored of being the Commander-I’ll hire you.” 

Pleasantries and banter passed between the two men until Cullen returned to his tower and climbed the ladder. Sliding next to her, Cullen congratulated himself for completing his mission without waking her.  

An audible sigh and stretch turned Melaena to face Cullen. “You know, you’re about a stealthy as a mabari wearing armor. The ladder creaks, the door squeaks and well, you’re not exactly light on your feet.” Her arms flopped to the bed, feigning exasperation, but the wide grin spoke to her delight in teasing Cullen . “Where did you go?”

“Never you mind,” he said, leaning to kiss her. “Good morning.”

Melaena guessed by the slight tinge to his neck and ears, she’d caught him plotting something. Unconcerned but curious, Melaena threw him a quick sideways glance coaxing a light laugh from Cullen- enough proof her assumption was correct. “You’re a horrible liar, Cullen.”

“Why Inquisitor,” he teased, “I am appalled that you would suggest such a thing.” Melaena stared back, holding his gaze unwavering. Cullen’s attempt to maintain a blank expression failed, and the two laughed, falling into a comfortable silence. She’d leave for the Emerald Graves soon, and these moments of quiet affection kept her going through the long absences.

She sighed in the realization they’d be apart again. Melaena could never quite explain what Cullen’s presence did for her. It was more than love and affection; he cared for her, despite his inability to express it in so many words. He’d start to say something, and then. . . cover it up with an embrace, a kiss or the simplest of gestures, resting his forehead against hers. Melaena didn’t want to think about leaving, choosing instead to snuggle closer.

The creak of the side door signaled an end to their time. Both unwilling to acknowledge the third person, Melaena met Cullen’s eyes. Tucking her hair behind her ear, his finger trailed along her cheek. “One more kiss before you go,” he said, his lips finding hers before pulling away, “my love.”

From the floor below, a gruff voice called up to the two. “Let’s go, Frosty! Leave the nice Commander and move it!” Varric laughed as he left the tower, closing the door behind him.

Cullen scowled. “Some days, I really dislike that dwarf.”

______________

The ride to the Graves would take several days, and after the first day, the party stopped at dusk to set up camp. Digging in her pack for a sharpening stone, Melaena discovered the hidden documents Cullen left for her. She flipped through the pages, Cullen’s perfect handwriting covering the pages.

Watching her distracted steps towards the fire pit, Dorian and Varric exchanged a glance. Dorian guessed the parchment’s origin and interrupted her daze. “What are we holding, my dear? Another boring missive extolling the virtues of the Graves as only Cullen can do?” His pointed sarcasm ignored, Melaena sat with her back against a bench.

The first few pages contained Cullen’s usual briefing material. Locations to visit, missions, expectations and points of interest all outlined for her perusal and use, the second page contained his usual sign off; a wish for her safe return. It was the next page that sent her heart into her throat.

_Where do I begin? How can I even find the right words to tell you what you mean to me?_

_I cannot tell you the intensity of my feelings for all you have suffered and seen these long months. Nor can I express how my heart swells with gratitude at the affection and joy you’ve given so freely to me when I know how dark the depths of your thoughts often carry you._

_Melaena, when we are together -my heart fills with emotion preventing words before they can pass my lips. Even the simplicity in the declaration of love to you seems frail compared to the feeling itself. I can only assume you know I love you well enough to accept those words as proof._

She paused, clutching the parchment in her hand. Melaena didn’t dare meet the curious glances of her friends, opting instead to immerse herself in Cullen’s words. Feeling the flush creep into her face, she continued.

_I see you for who you are, love. The strength is real, despite the doubt and uncertainties you hide behind your beautiful eyes. I hope that you somehow find relief with me._

_You astonish me with each passing day. When I see your kindness, your patience with others and how you take such delight in the successes of those closest to you, I cannot help be feel a sense of pride in the beauty of your selflessness. I am in awe of the sacrifices you make for even the smallest child, putting your own needs aside to help those unable to help themselves._

_The richness of you cannot be explained in mere words._

_When I saw you across the field of battle, I could not take my eyes from you. In the time we spent together, the rare moments I had to myself were consumed with thoughts of you. The day I thought you were lost, I cursed my plans that sent you away and in hidden silence rejoiced when you appeared._

_In my innermost heart, I hold the best of us together. My life, such as it is, is yours. Until then, keep the coin close, and know it carries my love, protection and an unending desire to see you home-to me._

The weight of his words, loving pride in her and all she’d experienced covered her. She exhaled, trying to gain control over the emotions filling her. Dorian’s repeated concern over her well-being threatened to unleash the tears she held back.

Reading the letter again, Melaena realized he’d included a note at the bottom.

_Leave the first letter for your nosey friends and keep this safe. Let them wonder. I love you - CSR_

She laughed aloud, wiping the remnant of a falling tear from her cheek. “I love you, too,” she whispered.

“All right Frosty,” Varric said, “time to share with the rest of us.” In most cases, Melaena would have cringed; knowing Varric or Dorian would figure it out or convince her to share. However, Cullen had listened to her complaints and given her the perfect ruse. She stood, turning from them to stuff Cullen’s real letter into her tunic, and handed over the fake missive without a word before retiring to her tent.

Sounds of disbelief and calls for her to explain went unanswered as she tucked her letter under her head and fell asleep. 


End file.
